


And Stubborn Love

by 0hHeyThereBigBadWolf



Series: Every Atom of Me, Every Atom of You [1]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Bad Cooking, Chess, Cuddling, Ezekiel Jones Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Magical Accidents, Movie Nights, Multi, Secret Relationship, Swearing, worrying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 23:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf/pseuds/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf
Summary: It's interesting to think about. Falling in love starts with "who the fuck is this?" and yet somehow leads to "never let me go." Strange how that works, isn't it? Maybe not stranger than dæmons, flying swords, and a magic Library. Maybe.





	And Stubborn Love

Jake Stone—Adrasteia, called "Addy," [Siberian lynx](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2014/12/04/23BD204100000578-2858181-image-a-24_1417703977739.jpg)  
Casandra Cillian—Asten, [common genet](https://c2.staticflickr.com/4/3751/11073713674_2400bfa20c_b.jpg)  
Ezekiel Jones—Zhu, [red fox](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oDIgc4lHtcc/UbWnoGm0wzI/AAAAAAAADHU/M7kzGBzCgKw/s1600/Red-Fox-In-Snow.jpg)  
Eve Baird—Karys, [Siberian husky/grey wolf mix](http://www.giantalaskanmalamutepuppies.com/files/pictures/Wolf/Puppies/WoJungleM5-800.jpg)  
Flynn Carsen—Loquis, [American river otter](http://www.vannattabros.com/13-09/otter-1.jpg)  
Jenkins—Menerva, [snowy owl](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mVh5UmramxA/UCtCI2Mzy4I/AAAAAAAAOkY/fB3iP_-q5G4/s1600/Snowy+Owl5.jpg)

 

Cassandra and Asten were separated. Not of their own will, but they were still proud of it, to know that they were strong enough to stretch their bond the way so few people in the world could. They'd never needed to be as close to each other as most people and their dæmons anyways, even as children. It was useful sometimes. Lonely sometimes, too. But, no, not quite lonely. More like...the  _impression_ of it. A space where someone  _should_ be, but not necessarily where one of  _them_ had to be.

It was a space that was starting to be filled, but not by a single someone. By two someones, actually, technically four if she counted their dæmons too.

Ezekiel couldn't cook. She'd found that out the hard way the first time he tried to make breakfast, giving the whole 'domesticity' thing a shot, and she'd lost her appetite for the rest of the day. Nobody had ever bothered to show him, or he was used to having somebody else do the cooking for him. Probably a mix of both.

Jake could cook. He was very good at it. Apparently, when he was younger, after his mother died, he had become the domestic one of the Stone household, the one responsible for dinner. Ezekiel never asked him for help, and Jake never offered it either. But if Ezekiel came to sit on the countertop and watch when Jake started making dinner, with Zhu wrapped around his shoulders like a living stole, the historian never said a word about it, neither did Addy, lying placidly across his feet.

There were only two instances in which Jake swore. One was when he was fixing his truck, as it seemed to have some kind of magic effect on the rolling steel, one of those secret rites of masculinity. If it didn't work, curse at it until it was galled into working again. The other was when he came into the kitchen after Ezekiel and Zhu had finished their latest attempt at domesticity, and that was just because  _Jones._ "Grown-ass man can't even make goddamn bacon," Jake muttered irritably as he scraped burnt, forgotten bacon onto a plate for Asten, who would eat anything bacon-based without hesitation or complaint, carbonized or not, much to his human's chagrin.

Cassandra never said anything, only smiled from where she was solving the New York Times crossword at the kitchen table. Asten knew not to laugh or he'd have his bacon privileges revoked, sitting patiently on the floor next to Jake's feet.

Asten saved the unburnt pieces of bacon for Addy. She and Jake were both grossed out, but also kind of touched at the same time.

* * *

"What in the name of God did you  _do?_ This shit could kill a goddamn  _dragon,_ Jones."

* * *

Jake's pocket-Clippings Book sent him on a mission.

He came back with a new item for the Modern Artifacts wing: a toy robot, of all things.

Baird and Karys still didn't notice anything different about them.

Cassandra was torn between being worried about how good they were at lying, and being proud they were managing to pull one over on their indomitable Guardian.

* * *

"I can't believe you actually convinced me to watch this crap," Jake muttered as he dropped down into the plush, over-stuffed sofa in front of the screen. The Library's theatre didn't have rows of individual seats like an actual theatre; rather, it had comfy recliners and sofas, not to mention large, squashy cushions on the floor for dæmons to lay on if they didn't like or fit on furniture. Addy sniffed disdainfully even as she sorted herself a prime spot in the middle of one particular cushion, tucking her paws beneath her and kneading at the stuffing.

Cassandra rolled her eyes as she sat on the other end of the sofa, folding her legs so her bare feet were tucked under her thighs. "Oh, hush, Jake. You know you like movie night just as much as the rest of us," she replied. Asten slunk off her lap to press himself sinuously along Addy's flank, snuggling up close to the other dæmon; for as much as she tried to maintain her feline aloofness, Addy began to make an almost subvocal purr, leaning subtly into the genet.

"Yeah, when we're watching an actual  _movie,_ not...whatever the hell this is," he answered with all the childish stubbornness of a three-legged mule, which Cassandra sometimes believed Addy should have settled as rather than a lynx.

"Scoot over a touch, would ya?" Ezekiel asked as he sauntered into the theatre carrying a bucket of popcorn in one arm, in an actual tin. "I'd rather not sit within swatting distance of the cowboy, if you don't mind."

Cassandra rolled her eyes at the pair (children, the both of them) but moved down anyways so she sat in the middle seat, her shoulder nearly touching Jake's but not quite, close enough to feel his warmth.

"Thanks, love," Ezekiel said, then crawled horizontally across the sofa to lay across both of their laps, half on Cassandra's and half on Jake's, only his feet touching the sofa itself.

"Jones," Jake growled under his breath, gaze flicking automatically towards the door.

"Relax, cowboy. Baird and Flynn are on a hot date several time zones away, and Jenkins is very determined to have the new wing properly documented and archived in his anal-retentive old-man way. We're in the clear," the thief reassured with a dismissive wave of the hand as he made himself good and comfortable against the other man's lap, then held up the tin bucket. "Popcorn?"

Jake managed to keep up his half-hearted glare for another then seconds before relenting and taking a handful of popcorn. "Smartass."

Zhu giggled from the floor as she twined herself around Addy and Asten, lying on the plush cushion in front of the sofa. Her vivid autumnal coat clashed sharply with the dabbled silver-grey-white-ash of the other two dæmons, but it was a pleasing contrast. "Better than being a dumbass, though," she replied, then let out a squeaking yelp when Addy nipped her ear reprovingly.

"Boys, if you can't play nice, you can't sit together," Cassandra admonished, and they both stared at her until her calm face cracked into a smile, giggling brightly. "Start the movie already."

Ezekiel grinned and laid his head on the arm of the sofa as the opening credits started.

Cassandra could feel Jake almost humming with tension beside her, sitting stiff and rigid with unease, but inch by stubborn inch, the bullheaded man unwound, the tightness sliding out of his posture until he sat completely relaxed. One hand drifted down to rest across the arm of the sofa just above Ezekiel's head, fingertips lightly ruffling through his hair absentmindedly. The other arm had snuck up and around her shoulders of its own volition, drawing her in close so she was flush against his side; she laid her head against his shoulder, hair spilling down half his chest. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Ezekiel grinning smugly at the screen, snuggling back further into them just because he  _could._

Zhu sighed happily from the cushion on the floor as Addy rested her muzzle across the fox dæmon's shoulders; Asten curled up snugly between them, his long ringed tail curled around Zhu's much fluffier one. The warm smell of fur and Dust and love made her drowsy with contentment, and sooner than she would've thought, Cassandra felt her lashes getting heavier. Jake had started stroking her hair, and the repetitive motion was even more soporific than Asten's fuzzy sleepiness. She reached out to take the popcorn tin and set it on the floor before Ezekiel dropped it (Jenkins  _would_ make him clean it up) and let herself relax further into the pair of them.

She was asleep before Nero destroyed Planet Vulcan.

* * *

The fuck—it's  _toast._ How in the sweet hell do you fucking fuck up  _toast?!"_

* * *

Her pocket-Clippings Book sent her on a mission.

She came back with a statuette of Athena that belonged in the Greek Figures section.

Cassandra got to shoot a very angry boar with a bow and arrow; only female warriors could defeat it.

Jake was so proud of her that he kissed her in the middle of the Library...when Baird and Karys weren't looking, of course.

* * *

Ezekiel liked chess. Cassandra was good at it, it was one of the only games that her parents allowed her to play, given that it was considered an 'intellectual' pastime. He hadn't known how to play at first, but after watching her play a few games on her computer, he and Zhu "found" an actual chess set and challenged her to a real game. His strategy needed work, but he was good.

Jake didn't like chess. That surprised her. She thought it would've been right up his alley, but no. He played a mean game of Chinese checkers, though.

The first several weeks of their relationship had been awkward courtship, trying not to step on each other's toes whilst rearranging their boundaries with each other at the same time. After that, it'd become that temporary state of fervor, unable to stop themselves from stealing touches and kisses whenever they could, including one very memorable situation in a broom closet down in the Mediterranean section (a story for another time). It was one of the few times that Cassandra was glad that she could separate from Asten, so he could go play watch-dæmon whilst she was...otherwise indisposed.

Now, though, now they had settled into a not-quite-but-almost routine, a comfortable peace. Cassandra and Ezekiel might play chess, their dæmons watching from the sidelines whilst Jake stretched out on the sofa and worked on a new paper or an academic criticism, scribbling away in a beat-up old notebook as Addy corrected his grammar, peering over one shoulder. After two or three games, Ezekiel would claim to be bored and throw himself on Jake with playful demands to be entertained, and Jake would shove him off onto the floor. Addy would chase Zhu 'round and 'round the sofa, the latter cackling all the while even as the former hissed angrily at being disturbed. Cassandra would soothe Jake's temper and coddle Ezekiel's bruised ego with Asten lithely inserting himself between Addy and Zhu, purring in that odd way genets sometimes could.  _That_ usually led to more intimate touching, and they'd end up in the bedroom to take up where they left off in the broom closet.

It was kind of funny, seeing Jake wear a scarf in summer because he was so  _not_ about to explain to Baird where the hickeys on his neck came from or why they looked like they were made by two different mouths (because they were).

They made an agreement after that: no love-bites above the collar. But anywhere else was just fine.

* * *

"The goddamn coffeemaker?!  _The goddamn coffeemaker!"_

* * *

Ezekiel's pocket-Clippings Book sent him on a mission.

He—

He—

Oh, God.

* * *

"You stupid, stubborn, goddamn human fucking  _disaster—!"_ Jake was bellowing at the top of his lungs, and he had a very good voice for it, which was how Cassandra and Asten knew that Ezekiel was still alive. Six days  _after_ he said that he'd be back, with absolute zero radio contact during that time, having to be half-carried through the Back Door by an extraordinarily pissed-off Baird and a worried Flynn, but still alive. 

Karys was carrying Zhu on his broad back, and she was holding herself entirely still, the way she did whenever she didn't want to give away an injury Ezekiel was hiding from them. Her lovely autumn fur was matted in damp, knotted clumps, as if another, larger dæmon had taken her in its mouth and  _shaken_ her viciously.

"Sorry, mate," Ezekiel mumbled, looking more exhausted than she had ever seen him, most of his weight leaning into Baird's shoulder, his clothes torn and dirtied with suspicious damp, dark stains that had the familiar copper smell of blood to them.

So, for once, Cassandra absolutely did not blame Jake for swearing.

She went to Ezekiel's side and helped Baird half-drag, half-carry him towards Jenkins' lab whilst Flynn ran ahead, shouting for the Caretaker. "Ezekiel, what were you  _thinking?"_ she murmured softly as he was busy trying to act like he wasn't about to faint. He sucked at it. Cassandra was almost certain that she was going to be the one yelling at him soon, once Jake and Baird had their turns.

They got him to Jenkins' lab, and the old knight shooed them all out, locking the door quite pointedly once he and Menerva forcibly pushed them all out into the corridor. Baird strode off, presumably to go punch something until she wasn't angry anymore, Karys growling with well-meant worry aft her; Flynn went to go put away the artifact that Ezekiel had almost killed himself to get, Loquis curled around his throat like a furry scarf, oddly pragmatic in their own way. That left Cassandra and Jake standing outside the door in the hallway. She had both arms wrapped around Asten, hugging him to her breast, glad that he was small enough for her to hold.

"I'll fucking  _kill_ him!" Jake fumed, eyes livid.

"He could've  _died,"_ Addy murmured, eyes miserable.

Ezekiel had four cracked ribs, half a concussion, a semi-serious fever, and a mild cold. He needed about two weeks' worth of rest and enough water to drown a selkie. Jenkins wanted to keep him on bedrest for observation, spell-rigged traps were very tricky, but he and Menerva both knew they didn't have the smallest scrap of a chance of actually getting him to stay in bed, much less in the Annex. Why should they? Werewolf bites and gas poisoning couldn't bench the thief, so why should a couple broken ribs and busted head stop him.

Cassandra wanted to  _know._ Seriously. Asten, too.

They also wanted to know how it was possible someone could only have 'half' of a concussion, but she supposed they ought to wait until Ezekiel was recovered enough to be yelled at properly before asking him.

"I'm fine," he protested even as he winced, poking at his wrapped ribs. Zhu was draped across the foot of the bed, looking somewhat less bedraggled now that she'd been dried off, but no less exhausted than before.

"There is a difference between 'fine' and 'surviving,' Ezekiel Jones," Cassandra protested. "You are  _aware_ of that, right?" She wanted to hug him, to kiss every little scrape on his face, but Jenkins was standing right there and Menerva was watching the youngest Librarian with her eeriest fixed glare.

He was so obviously  _not._

"I'm  _fine."_

"The fuck you are," Jake snarled. Ignoring Jenkins side-eyed look and Menerva's staring, Addy padded over, seized Zhu by the scruff of her neck, and dragged her off the bed, heading out of the room towards the Back Door. Jake did the same to Ezekiel, all but picking him up and marching him in the direction their dæmons had gone.

"Wh—cowboy— _oi!"_

Cassandra probably shouldn't be enjoying this, right?

* * *

She was enjoying this so much.

"Stupid fucker can't even cook a fucking piece of toast or keep a goddamn phone on in Chinese spell-trap ruins," Jake muttered and growled as he clattered violently around in the kitchen space of his apartment. Ezekiel was ensconced on the sofa, and Cassandra perched in the armchair. Addy was lying almost on top of Zhu, the smaller dæmon pinned under her thick, well-furred paws, and she would snarl and hiss whenever Zhu or Ezekiel even tried to stand up. Asten, sitting beside her, had taken to growling too, just to back up the sentiment.

"How you can be this fucking  _stupid,_ I swear to  _Christ."_ Jake slammed a cupboard shut with a redolent bang. "If you die on us, Jones, I'll follow you to the other fucking side, bring your dumbass back, and kill you my goddamned  _self,_ you  _idiot..."_

Ezekiel pressed both hands to the sofa cushions, leaning forward as if about to stand up. Jake and Addy brought their heads around to snarl at him in unison; the thief immediately sank back down. "What? I was just gonna make lunch! I can still do  _that_ , mate."

"No, you will fucking  _not!"_ Jake pointed at him with a ladle like it was a deadly weapon. "I am making soup, and you are going to eat it. You eat your  _own_ damn cooking right about now, and you'll probably fucking  _die."_

"He's right, you would," Cassandra agreed mildly, still basking in the joy that both her boys were alive and acting like themselves. And in the fact that she was no longer alone in having to bully a grown man into acting like an adult and taking care of himself. It was the arguably the best thing that'd happened to her all month. Not including the incident in the Amazon Room, because that was an entirely different ballpark.

"Get him the-the blanket, that sunrise one you like," the historian ordered, brandishing his ladle in Cassandra's general direction. "Before he catches pneumonia or some shit."

The sunrise quilt was  _Jake's_ favourite. It was one that his grandmother had made not long before she died, and it always smelled like him, too. Cassandra traded a glance with Asten and smirked, then stood up and went to the bedroom to take the quilt off the end of the bed where it was always neatly folded, grabbing a pillow for good measure.

Him getting all worked up was kind of cute.

* * *

"Six days," Jake murmured in a soft, broken voice later, when it was dark and Ezekiel was snoring softly, curled up in a snug ball in the middle of the bed. The three of them were wrapped in the thick quilt, the thief and his dæmon the only one asleep at the moment. At the foot of the bed, Asten washed Addy's ears with a long, gentle tongue to soothe her, gently raking his sharp teeth through her fur. 

Cassandra pressed her lips to his temple, molding the front of her body against Jake's back. He said a lot more when they were like this, as if the darkness made him more honest. "I know," she replied just as softly, her breath ruffling his hair. "It's okay. We've still got him."

He let out a heavy shuddering breath and pressed back closer against her. They fit together very nicely this way, and she knew that he'd never admit it aloud, but he liked being held like this. "I'm gonna kick his ass when he's better."

She smiled against the back of his neck. "Yeah, I know."

* * *

"I was just gonna make breakfast, I can—"

"Get  _out_ of my fucking kitchen, I will do it myself."

* * *

"No bacon today, then?"

"What, do you like burned bacon that much?"

_"Yes."_

* * *

"You're so bloody weird, cowboy. You too, Red."

"We love you, too, Zeke."

"Smartass."


End file.
